Liar Liar: For the Love of Pie
by Minute-Maid511
Summary: For justice, for honour (but mostly money), and for love… of pie. Liar Liar: For the Love of Pie—the companion piece. Spanning all genres including, but not limited to: Love, horror, tragedy, and, of course, abject humiliation.
1. Names To Be Determined

Synopsis:

For justice, for honour (but mostly money), and for love… of pie. Liar Liar: For the Love of Pie—a companion piece to the main body.

You're free to read this, but you should probably go read "Liar Liar" first. These are extras.

ENJOY EXTRA THE FIRST.

* * *

 **Extra One: Names To Be Determined**

Like all great things, it started with a bang.

"What kind of crazy person are you to throw a _firecracker_ at someone who just said hello to you!?" he yelled once they had caught their breath and sufficiently lost their pursuers.

 _Literally, a bang._

Lelouch leaned heavily against the wall, catching his breath. He didn't convince his sister to lie about him actually putting in PE hours to his mother just to make them up in his free time for real. The hot, sweaty, disgusting feeling of physical exertion caught up with him, and he could practically _feel_ the lactic acid accumulating in his muscles. He vowed to take a shower once he got home. And a nap. He was a big believer in the conservation of energy law.

Never mind that it wasn't applicable here.

Laughter rang out in the air and he glared at the green-haired girl in front of him—who was out of breath, but didn't look like she was about to pass out and die like he did.

"Because it's fun! And because that guy was annoying and I couldn't get rid of him. And because I had a firecracker on me."

He just stared. He wasn't sure what was frankly more concerning—how this woman had lit and thrown a _firecracker_ at someone for saying _hello_ to her, or why she had one on her person in the first place.

He went with the latter.

"Why on _earth_ did you have a _firecracker_ on you?"

The woman's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh!" she exclaimed, as if just realizing something. "Why _do_ I have a firecracker on me?" She hummed briefly, as if thinking about it, and then shrugged. "I must've stolen it from somewhere. No biggie," she said with a lackadaisical shrug.

Lelouch just gaped at her. "Sto…! Who _are_ you? Are you a criminal or something?"

Smiling rather innocuously for someone who threw a lit firecracker at a seemingly innocent man not too long ago, the woman merely shrugged. "Maybe. They haven't told me yet. And I'm, uh, Emily. Emily Dickenson, pleased to meet you," she said, holding her hand out.

Lelouch blinked at her. He stared at the outstretched hand, and then back up at that guileless face.

"You are _not_ Emily Dickenson."

The girl frowned. "And why not? I could be."

"Emily Dickenson is _dead."_

She blinked prominently and then tapped her chin. "Okay then. I'm Marie. Marie Antoinette, it's a pleasure."

Her hand shot out once more.

As if this wasn't déjà vu and what just happened didn't happen.

Lelouch stared at it for a moment and then met her gaze and sighed. "Look, if you don't want to tell me that's fine, but you shouldn't masquerade as famous dead women. People will call you on it pretty quickly."

The woman huffed and folded her arms under her well-endowed bust. "Okay then. I'm really a lab rat escapee on the run from scientists because I don't want to be experimented on anymore."

Lelouch sighed. "You have a rather overactive imagination, don't you?"

"Okay, how about this: I'm from space."

"That's less believable than the lab rat story. Look, if you want to fool people, you have to pitch it within the realm of possibility. Like, you're from Canada or something," Lelouch said with a random wave of his hand, pulling it off the top of his head.

The woman just stared at him and there was a moment of silence. "Hahahahaha! Canada! Like anyone would believe _that."_

Lelouch scoffed. "It's way more believable than a flat out _lie,_ Miss Can't Even Give Me Her Name."

"Well, what about you?"

Lelouch opened his mouth to do just that when he stopped himself. "Julian. Julian Kingsley."

The woman reached for his hand and shook it without prompt. "It's a pleasure, Mr _Kingsley_ ," she said, emphasizing the name, raising her eyebrows slightly and giving him a look that clearly said she didn't believe him, but also didn't care. "Either way, Julius, we should probably leave this dirty alley before that guy I threw the firecracker at comes seeking revenge."

And then, without warning or his consent, _Marie Antoinette_ dashed off, pulling him along behind her having never let go of his hand.

"Wha—? _Hey!_ And it's _Julian!"_

* * *

Comment:

I said on my profile that I would post this Wednesday, but I think it's Wednesday somewhere in the world already.

Please R&R.

\- Minute Maid

Beverage of Queens


	2. The Food of Kings

Pre-Comment: While the first two are in tandem, these are actually in no particular order. Although if they do bridge I'll be sure to let you know.

EXTRA ENJOY SECOND!

* * *

 **Extra Two: The Food of Kings**

It became fairly obvious after spending a bit of time with the woman that she had no idea who she really was.

 _Amnesia._

As if that kind of thing existed in this day and age, Lelouch scoffed. And yet the evidence of her struggling to remember things before a certain point in her life was either really good acting or a really bizarre truth he wasn't sure he wanted to know more of. Either way, she had attached herself to him and didn't show any indication of leaving him alone. He knew he should find this deeply concerning, but Lelouch somehow found himself… getting quite attached to her too.

And, as it turned out, her name _was not_ Emily Dickenson. Or Marie Antoinette. Or any of the other strange names she gave him in lieu of her real one, which included, but was not limited to famous Hollywood movie stars both dead and alive. One was even a man.

No, her real name was far stranger.

"Your name is CC?"

"Yup," she confirmed, spooning another bite of rainbow sorbet into her mouth, squeezing her eyes in delight at the tropical flavours.

Lelouch's eyebrows drew together disapprovingly. "That's two letters long. And technically consists of only one letter."

"Uh huh," she confirmed. CC shrugged at the long look he gave her. "My parents were unimaginative? It's my test subject number? That's what I'm called and so it's my name."

Deciding that this was not a worthwhile battle to pursue, Lelouch instead decided to let it go. CC got on his nerves more often than not, but it was never enough to tip him over the edge to just dump her. And it seemed like she knew when to quit, because they had been together now two weeks—travelling from place to place almost aimlessly.

All things told, he _should_ have separated himself from her the moment he met her, but when she flirted her way to dinner for both of them that night, one thing led to the next and Lelouch found himself eating for free more often than not. And it was this ability to swindle poor, unsuspecting fools into parting with their hard-earned cash for her that made it more of a fiscal decision on his part than anything else to stay with her.

The most terrifying part was that she didn't even seem completely aware of intentionally doing it either.

 _Hey, Lulu, a guy offered to buy us dinner!_

 _Hey, Lulu, a guy offered to let us stay the night!_

 _Hey, Lulu, a guy offered to buy us lunch!  
_

 _Hey, Lulu, look at this dress that guy just bought for me!  
_

Lelouch had never spent a single iota of thought on the stupidity of others to give things away to a complete _stranger_ before meeting CC—a complete stranger to whom he had begun travelling with and giving things away to as a result of that travelling—thing such as food and shelter. He would blame the men for their blatant actions, but didn't want to think about how he was sitting in the next boat over, if not leading the charge.

And so, because money was tight, he took it for what it was and eventually let the girl do as she pleased, looking the other way. It eased the pressure on the wallet, as well as the dire need to find immediate work in whatever area they found themselves in. So they were able to continue travelling in relative comfort from place to place.

And then Lelouch made what he would consider his worst financial decision ever.

"I got us pizza for dinner," he said by way of announcing his return to the hotel room. "Pizza Hut was having a deal."

CC had been lounging on the bed on her back, with her hair hanging down all over the edge, watching TV. She perked her head up slightly and quirked a curious eyebrow. "Pizza?" she queried innocently, rolling back over onto her stomach, regarding the square, cardboard box Lelouch was carrying. "What's that?"

Grinning at her endearing guilelessness, he answered, "The food of kings."

CC's eyes _sparkled._

Worst.

Financial.

Decision.

Ever.

ooo

Laundry day was always a nightmare for them. It usually involved hanging around a laundromat all day. CC had run out of things to wear and, because she hated doing the laundry, had taken to wearing one of Lelouch's long, over-sized dress shirts that didn't quite fit either of them because he had picked it up in the wrong size and couldn't return it. She wore shorts alongside it, but the shirt was so long it made it look like she was basically in her underwear—and who wore bras if they weren't going out?

When the doorbell rang, she called out, "I'll get it!" Leaping to her feet from the couch, she grabbed Lelouch's wallet and headed for the door. To her great delight she opened the door to a teenage boy with a nametag that read 'Frank.' Her eyes zeroed in on the square, cardboard box he was pulling out of the insulated bag and idly noticed that his eyes didn't quite meet hers—instead settling somewhere below her chin. But this was not her concern when _heaven_ was so close at hand.

She hummed in delight, smelling the cardboard-encased delicacy from the doorway. "Awesome! How much do I owe you?"

The guy just continued to gape unattractively.

And while that was cute and all, CC really needed him to receive money for the delivered food and leave so she could enjoy herself on circular bliss. So, leaning over so she was eye-level with him, she gave him a frown, wondering if maybe he had a sudden stroke or something. "Hey, are you okay?"

The guy's eyes widened like saucers and he turned bright red before jerking back a step, sending his Pizza Hut visor askew on his head. His eyes darted from her face to somewhere below her face a few times before his face turned even redder. Shoving the pizza into her hands, he spun on his heel and booked it out of there with the parting words, "It's on the house!"

CC watched him go curiously and hummed.

 _He was in an awful hurry,_ she thought idly.

Oh well. She got dinner for free. Lelouch would be happy.

"Hey, Lulu! The delivery guy gave us the pizza for free!" she announced, walking into their temporary kitchen for a month.

"Good! It's not like you haven't already spent _half_ our food budget on the stuff." Lelouch then frowned from poring over their finances. "Wait, why on earth would…" he said, trailing off when he finally glanced up at her.

His eyes went from her face, to somewhere below her face, to the box of pizza she had put on the kitchen counter and was now eating her first slice of. His eyes then travelled to the receipts in his hand and back again to make the rounds over her person.

A few things began clicking together in his head.

In hindsight, Lelouch eventually forgave her for leading him to his Worst Financial Decision Ever because it had inevitably led to his Best Financial Decision Ever.

"I have an _amazing_ idea."

* * *

Comment:

I bet none of you thought I would _actually_ be on time with this. Early even. (By whose definition? My own of course.)

And now here is where I open this up for _requests._ Limited to "Liar Liar" and all things related, is there anything _you_ would like more elaboration on, humorous, mortifying, or otherwise? Let me know and I might take you up on it!

Please R&R.

\- Minute Maid

The Beverage of Queens.


	3. False Advertising

Pre-Comment: I thought about what I wanted to write here for a whole minute and came up with nothing, so I thought I'd just let you know.

THIRD EXTRA ENJOY!

* * *

 **Extra Three: False Advertising**

"This is in the bag, CC," he assured her confidently, flipping out his collar and inspecting the cuffs. "My attack plan is perfect. Tease all you want when I'm swimming in my football field size pool and you're magicking pizza into nothing."

CC laughed, slipping a hand into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. "Whatever you say, Nancy," she returned airily, heading up to the counter—a cashier boy who was obviously ogling them with the reckless abandon and courage that teenage hormones gave you.

She paused in front of the counter for only three seconds, looking at how slack-jawed the poor boy looked, pining over something that would never (short of divine intervention) be his. Finally, a quick, short whistle brought his attention to her and he jumped, startled.

"Oh, I—uh—I'm sorry. I didn't—"

CC just smiled sweetly, winking. "It's alright, I don't mind."

The boy's eyes wandered back to Lelouch briefly, before snapping back to her.

Huh. Odd.

"Can I help you, Miss?"

"Yeah. I'm looking to buy him a present," she said, nodding her head over in Lelouch's direction. "Hot date tonight and all, and he's not completely sold on that shirt, so I think I'll just buy it for him—" with his money "—so he won't have a choice in the matter. But, you see, I'm a _little_ short on cash, so I was wondering if I could get a _tiny_ discount. You know, in exchange for… something else," she offered, with a shrug of her shoulders, leaning over the counter ever-so-slightly.

The boy blinked, completely unfazed by the obvious hint. "Sorry, Miss, that's against store policy."

CC frowned.

"Are you sure? I can't do _anything?_ "

"Not a thing."

Rats.

"I see," she said, standing up straight, giving the boy a decidedly cool look. And for the next few seconds or so, CC just stood there, holding the boy's gaze. There was something strangely off about this boy, but she couldn't quite—

His eyes briefly wandered over to something over her shoulder before ultimately turning back to her again.

CC glanced over her shoulder, where Lelouch was leaning closer to the mirror, inspecting his collar more closely, allowing his behind to stick out ever so. A light bulb sparked to life in her head. Her eyebrows rose and smiled slyly.

 _Oh._

Well then. A change of plans was in order.

"You know, he sleeps naked," she commented offhandedly.

The boy jerked, eyes snapping back onto her, a blush forming high in his cheeks. "I— _what?"_

CC nodded. "It's true. Something about liking the feeling of sheets on his skin. _All_ of his skin."

Roy G. Biv with a capital R.

"Th-that's—"

"I could give you some pictures if you cut me that deal."

"But I—that's—store policy—"

"Store policy can't tell you how to get into his pants. Trust me when I say they're tight pants you want to get into. And his pants are _very tight."_

"Isn't he…" the boy swallowed, "Going on a date with you?"

"Me? Gosh no. It's with a _man._ But they're not _together,"_ she added after catching the look on the boy's face. "Not yet anyway. And may never be if you cut me that deal. As a bonus, I can tell you the way to his heart."

Blue eyes widened like saucers.

Hook. Line. Sinker.

"I can get you twenty percent."

CC scoffed. "What kind of friend do you think I am? Selling out my good friend for some cheap—"

"Thirty!"

"—it's downright rude of you to—"

"Okay, okay! Half."

"—I would ever accept such a—"

"I'll pay for it!"

"Deal."

The boy sighed, shoulders slumping.

CC just grinned. "Pleasure doing business with you!"

And after giving the boy a single, simple instruction, CC turned on her heel and walked away back to Lelouch.

"Come on, Nancy, I need you dressed down properly for your date tonight. You should be thanking me; I got this stuff for _free_. Pooh on your _discount."_

"What? But how, I—"

CC wrapped her arms around his waist, purring into his ear, pressing up against his back. " 'Doesn't he look _so hot_ in that _tight_ black shirt? He _wants_ it _so_ much. It's a _crime_ not to just let him _have_ it, don't you think? And those _jeans._ When he looks so _fine_ with them on, imagine what he'd look lie with them o—' "

"CC, you didn't—!"

Cue look of horror.

Poor Lelouch looked back and forth between her and the cashier boy before his eyes widened in pure, unadulterated horror.

"CC, you—!"

"Oh, but I _did,"_ she answered smoothly, leaving the store before someone died.

* * *

Comment:

I know what you're saying, "When is the next chapter coming out?" When I'm done writing all of it. Might be a while.

Want to know more about "Liar Liar"? Well, you're in luck, because I'm taking requests! Let me know and I might just do it.

Please R&R.

\- Minute Maid

Beverage of Queens.


	4. Disruption of Service

Pre-Comment: Happy Thanksgiving Canada! This one comes in as a request from... hold on, I didn't forget, I just don't _remember._

Extra Four! Enjoy!

* * *

 **Extra Four: Disruption of Service**

"You're kidding me."

The grim look on Company Gopher's face remained flat. (Yes, the boy had a name, and _yes_ Suzaku knew what it was. He just couldn't _remember_ it right now. _No_ ; knowing was _not_ the same as remembering.) No, it seemed, he was not kidding him. The heavy, letter-laden box in his arms was proof enough.

"What happened to the person who sorted it all?" he asked, giving the box a dubious look, as if it might spontaneously combust.

Company Gopher's lips tightened. There were probably tons of other gophery things to do around the company—it was a busy season for them after all, and the poor boy was probably thinking about how much more he had to do.

Or maybe about how many more boxes of this there was to deliver.

"That was our summer intern, Sir. They've finished their internship and are back in school."

Suzaku's face fell and he gave another wary look at the non-descript box. The corner of a pink envelope was sticking out of it threateningly. Then his face lit up and he turned to his assistant. "Wait, didn't we build a fireplace in the staff room just for this? Why wasn't this sent there?"

Nina looked up and gave him a bland, somewhat disapproving look at that comment before fixing her eyes back onto her desktop.

Suzaku couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit offended.

Okay, so maybe there was _something_ sociopathic about ruthlessly burning the love and adoration of his somehow fans from all over, but Suzaku didn't care. It interrupted his work, and he received complaints from the postal service on a weekly basis. He didn't know how he had fans, or even _why_ he had fans. All he knew was that it was a problem that needed solving.

Once, one person had somehow beat the rigorous screening (of summer interns) and made it to his desk. The letter was camouflaged as an important, urgent document, with hefty postage to back it up. The contents, for which his eyes were unfortunately subjected to, could not be repeated here, but he never wanted to be victim to another one of those again.

Again, _why_ did he have fans? He was a businessman.

Checking his watch to avoid the direct gaze of Company Gopher, Suzaku made a show of clearing his throat. "Send them to the back room then. With the others."

With a respectful bow of his head (and maybe a bit of an exasperated sigh—as if he knew this was what would happen in the end, but was obligated to ask anyway), Company Gopher headed back to the elevator to make his way to Storage Closet C, because, yes, A and B _were_ full. Or were they at D already? Suzaku didn't know; he never actually went there except in the winter time when kindling was needed. It didn't matter anyway. He had inherited this building, which had been built new under his father's directions. At the time those directions amounted to: Make it as big as possible.

The building would forever be a part of Tokyo's skyline.

Once the elevator doors closed and Company Go—his name was Jim!— _ahem_ —and _Jim_ was gone, his assistant managed to catch his gaze without needing to.

"Jim's a great guy, isn't he?" he said irrelevantly, hoping to throw off that disapproving look on her face.

The look only deepened.

"His name is Yuuta Asahi."

Jim was close.

"Sir, we're running out of space."

Suzaku sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I know. But I really _don't_ have time to go through them all. I wish they would all just _stop."_

"Then why not date someone? People usually give up if there's another person involved."

Silence.

One.

Two.

Th—

"Say, Nina—"

 _"No,"_ she emphatically shot down.

Suzaku tsked and sat down in the swivel chair at his desk heavily.

He wasn't dating anyone, wasn't interested in anyone, and didn't even have anyone in mind who would let him do it.

"That's too hard. What else can I do?"

"Tell everyone you're gay, then. That brings the population of eligible people down incredibly low."

Suzaku thought about it for a moment. It was a good idea with almost no repercussions.

It could work.

With renewed purpose, he opened up the newest proposal sent his way and began working. Hopefully this would get the fan mail (once again, why!?) and postal system off his back.

ooo

The social mixer was more of a social obligation than an actual business one, but that didn't stop everyone from dressing like they were attending a funeral, which was a strangely fitting thought for the occasion. Although he could name off everyone present (and, _no,_ it was _not_ because everyone was wearing nametags), none of them were actually important enough to the company structure that boats would be rocked if he didn't attend. On the other hand, it was also important to try and be at these things every now and then—no matter how dry and boring they were.

So he decided that he would pay his dues, make one big circle and chat with everyone even remotely important for about five minutes a piece and be back in the office to get the ball rolling on negotiations with China. Damn country was impossible to get any traction in as far as the markets went.

In one corner he saw Gino sticking out like a sore thumb, wearing an obnoxiously white suit, complete with a pink tie. Suzaku grimaced slightly when the blonde man waved happily at him from across the room. Not wanting to give Schneizel, for whom Gino was the right hand of, any bad impressions, he nodded in acknowledgement and swiftly turned away before more of his attention could be demanded from the overly-enthusiastic guy.

And though it was tempting to just idle away the rest of the evening with Gino, seeing as how he was the only one remotely close to his age amidst the room of stuffy, middle-aged men, it would be in poor taste. So when he saw a completely distracted guy carrying drinks headed his way, he wondered if he was someone's son—although that someone would have to be decidedly not Japanese. Or perhaps he was the spawn of an affair. Such was common occurrence after all.

But the guy looked too _Britannian_ to even be half anything else. Maybe he was from an up-and-coming company? Perhaps adopted? Either way his curiosity was piqued so he'd have to go and satisfy it somehow.

Deciding he would take matters into his own hands, and perhaps do business with someone his own age for once, Suzaku moved towards him with the express purpose of striking up a conversation.

Although perhaps too expressly because the moment the guy turned away from whatever had caught his interest across the room, causing Suzaku to catch a glimpse of violet eyes and freeze mid-step only to—

"Ack! My Suit!"

Whoops.

But at the same time, Suzaku had his answer: Full-blooded Britannian. The attractive young man was practically the ideal image of every woman's dreams in the fair-skinned country. Heck, he was attractive by Japanese standards even. Those unique eyes were enough to make him stop and stare for a bit—and his eyes were _green_ , and he was _Japanese._ A Japanese kid didn't have _green_ eyes without everyone thinking he was illegitimate. Although his cousin _also_ had green eyes, so at least he wasn't alone.

No matter how attractive the guy was, Suzaku was only interested in how he might have just offended someone he had aimed to become friends with by spilling their drink all over them. And while it was his fault for not watching where he was going as well, Suzaku would be the bigger man and take the blame.

To honour the only lesson his father ever got to impart.

"Oh, jeeze, I'm sorry!"

The guy glanced down at himself, with punch dripping off his black suit, back off to the corner (at Gino?), and then again in some other direction before those violet eyes finally landed on him.

Suzaku himself gave himself a quick check over, seeming to have left the encounter unscathed.

"I… it's… it's fine. Just really expensive is all," he mumbled a bit, probably mourning the dry cleaning.

The level of restraint to not completely freak out was really admirable, and to a complete stranger, no less. Judging by his demeanour, he had no idea who Suzaku was, too, which made this encounter all the better. But it also made him a touch guiltier, because he had ruined the clothes of a perfect stranger who was taking it like a champ.

"Damn. I'm really sorry," he apologized sincerely, already making up his mind to offer to pay for the dry cleaning. "I wasn't really watching where I was going." Which was not even remotely true. "But I guess you weren't either, right?"

There was a strange look that flashed on the guy's face for a moment before it passed, making Suzaku wonder if he wasn't just seeing things. With a shrug, he sighed. "I guess not. This means I should apologize too, right? Sorry."

Shaking his head, Suzaku waved off his concern. "No, no. You're the one that got your suit ruined." Both of them looked down at the stained suit in remorse. And now: Reconnaissance. "Here, what group are you with? I can work out a deal to make up for it."

"Oh, I'm not with a group. I'm just here to keep my, er, cousin company."

Suzaku paused for a moment. He glanced around the room. Gino had moved on and he idly wondered if this guy was Gino's cousin—in which case he would have to put in more effort to make it up to him. "Who's your cousin?"

"Shirley Fenette."

Blinking, Suzaku glanced at the guy once more. He didn't see the resemblance, but it was true that Shirley was also Britannian so it was possible. "Ah, I see. Yeah, I know Shirley."

"Yeah, I'm kind of glad she brought me. I'm a little interested in meeting Suzaku Kururugi." Violet eyes travelled back over to Gino.

It took a moment to put things together for him, and Suzaku's next immediate thought was why this guy thought someone with as Japanese a name as his would look as Britannian as Gino.

"I've heard that he's gay. Maybe he'll fall for my charming good looks in the process."

In the moment that followed that statement, a few things pushed their way to the forefront of his mind like a small child vying for attention. Unsurprisingly it was the written letter of suggestion from the postal service that he hire a manager to handle it all—much like the idols did. And with that spark, all the lightbulbs in his head went off.

And so, like all opportunities in his life that presented themselves to him, Suzaku got to work.

"How about dinner?"

By the time it got to the point where they were exchanging numbers, Suzaku plucked the device out of the guy's hands, inputted his digits, and walked away to make the rounds of this dull, little social gathering with the promise that he would call.

Feeling elated, Suzaku felt his spirit rise even more when he saw that Li Xingke was here—the perfect way to smooth the road to China. But before he could go strike up a conversation, an arm was thrown around his shoulders casually.

"Who's the kid?" Gino asked, nodding over at the boy whose name he forgot to get, but knew was in his phone—and that meant he knew it by proxy.

Suzaku grinned. "My date for this Saturday."

* * *

Comment:

I'm kidding; this request was from _nociceptor_ , whose username I spelled wrong at least eight times because I kept spelling "nocireceptor" and variations of. By the sixth time I realized it was probably the better idea to copy and paste, but by then my pride wouldn't allow me to admit defeat.

Anyway, I wish there was a better reason for it all, but it was mentioned in the story line somewhere that this was why.

Is there anything you want to know more about in Liar Liar? Let me know and I'll see what magic I can bring you.

Please R&R.

\- Minute Maid

Beverage of Queens.


	5. Big Brother

Pre-Comment: The story is over, but it's still paying room and board in my head. _  
_

Extra Five N JOY!

* * *

 **Extra Five: Big Brother**

You get a certain level of accustomed when you live in another country outside your own for months at a time. And that, CC supposed, was the reason that the pizza back home tasted as good as it did. The moment they hopped off the plane, bringing about the end to a 'very bad experiment,' as Lelouch would label it, she pickpocketed his wallet and headed to the airport Pizza Hut. Her beloved Cheese-kun had even made the special effort to welcome her home. It was a touching reunion.

To celebrate, CC ate enough pizza to feed a small village.

The day the credit card bill rolled in Lelouch came knocking on her door.

"CC!" he raged, flinging the door open so hard it slammed against the wall. His eyes were blazing, violet points of fury focused with laser point intensity at her. It didn't help lower Lelouch's rage levels to see a slice of pepperoni stuffed in her mouth.

She hummed inquisitively, as if she didn't know she was in a lot of trouble.

"Do you know what came in the mail today?"

CC blinked at him before turning her eyes back at the TV, continuing to munch on her triangle of cheese, tomato sauce, meat, and all-around goodness.

"The Master Plastic bill," he answered for her. "Do you know how much money you spent on pizza this month? _Do you?"_

She could understand, she supposed, why he was so angry. The inevitable had happened and they were strapped for cash, but a girl's gotta eat. Luckily, something _else_ came in the mail today that would grant her immunity. At least this time.

Getting up, she walked over to her desk and took the unsealed envelope, passing it over to Lelouch.

Upon seeing the official seal on the envelope, Lelouch paled several shades whiter.

 _"What is that?"_ he hissed, not taking the bait.

CC licked her fingers. "Read it."

Lelouch narrowed his eyes at the letter, as if it would spontaneously combust. Rolling her eyes, she wiped her hands on a napkin and gingerly pulled out the fancy letterhead from the Britannia Group, number one national brand and choice for Sakuradite refining.

 _"Dear Lulu, how I dearly miss you so. When you come back from Japan, be sure to visit home. Let's talk soon. Love, big brother."_

When her eyes flicked up to gauge the reaction on—

Oh.

The apocalypse had been announced by the look of it.

"He even drew a little heart with x's and o's. How sweet," she cooed.

The gears in Lelouch's head were either frozen solid or churning so quickly the capacity to do anything other than stand there with a dumb look on his face was gone. Either a million thoughts were running through that head or everything was taking the next flight to Nope Land.

CC never had the opportunity or questionable pleasure to meet any of Lelouch's family—well, aside from Clovis now, she supposed—but she often wondered what kind of people they were to strike such immediate and unadulterated fear so easily in Lelouch. And apparently they were all incredibly famous and influential individuals in not only their home country, but abroad as well, if only by their name alone. The only one outside of Clovis she recognized for sure was his sister—it was hard not to when her sweet-faced smile was plastered on every billboard from the border to Pendragon.

"We need to move."

CC quirked an eyebrow up. She pinched one corner of the envelope and turned the front of it to show to Lelouch. While the return address had been neatly stamped in as part of the company envelope, the centre of the envelope only indicated Lelouch's name in neat, cursive.

His full name.

A single tear formed in the corner of his eyes and threatened to fall.

"I don't think that will help you," she said solemnly.

* * *

This request comes in from a person who lives in a place: _Schneizel finds out about Lelouch's_ shenanigans. This is probably late. Sorry. _  
_

Please R &R.

\- Minute Maid

Beverage of Queens


End file.
